


Unexpected Acquaintances

by ferowyn



Category: Charmed, Doctor Who, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Mary Poppins (1964), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: and short, have fun, kink meme prompt, minifill, this is rather stupid, xmfc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3601350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferowyn/pseuds/ferowyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knew that Cerebro would make Charles unable to focus, and lose himself in little details instead? Also, some of those beings out there are rather strange - and if <i>he</i> says that it has to mean something!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Acquaintances

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a minifill for this kink meme prompt:  
> http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/5215.html?thread=5139807#t5139807
> 
> \---
> 
> It’s rather short and silly.  
> Have fun!

#### Unexpected Acquaintances

… sandshoes, _really_?

…

Cerebro… was a glorious invention, and Charles felt honoured that Hank let him use what he must have poured hours into creating. Still – the young mutant really could have mentioned how bloody distracting _every single detail_ would be.

Especially this new, stronger version at the mansion seemed to amplify that effect, and whenever Charles went to look for mutants – whose minds glowed in bright red, in stark contrast to ‘normal’ people’s dull grey – he found other, _special_ beings, minds in the most distracting colours, and absolutely minor details about them that stopped him from doing what he was supposed to do.

Right now, for example, he was staring at a person who flashed a number of different colours – if he were an epileptic, he would have had no chance.

What stood out about this strange young man, however, was not the colours.

It was the ridiculous sandshoes that did so _not_ match with his suit.

Also – was that a telephone box he was just pushing some girl into?

Charles got a short flash of I’m the doctor, and gotta ask Rose about Barcelona again, then the strange colourful guy and the girl had closed the door and were-

…

Gone.

Huh.

Now, how was he supposed to find any mutants who might want to help with their cause if he kept stumbling upon people like that?

Sighing, he let his mind leave London and travel North, and there he saw someone glowing a particularly bright red, and-

…

Wait a moment.

What was that, up there in Scotland?

He had barely even _thought_ of wanting to know, and his mind – of course – had already gone there; and he had come upon single green people before – very few here in America – but never so many in one place!

And, whowwhowwhow, were they _flying on broomsticks??_

Something was seriously wrong here!

Charles dashed across the minds of some of those flying – what was so interesting about a tiny golden ball? – and many of those watching, until he ran against what felt like a solid _wall_.

And who, a gentle and mildly curious voice said are you, attempting to break into my mind like that?

Charles’ thoughts slammed to a halt.

_How_ was this _possible_? How could this middle-aged man with the incredible beard feel his presence, and keep him out of his head, if he was clearly not a mutant – clearly not a telepath?

Uh- … I’m Charles? he attempted to answer, desperately trying to keep his whirling thoughts secret from the man. Who knew, maybe the guy could read him as well?

Pleased to meet you, I am Albus Dumbledore – transfigurations teacher at this school.

School… t-t-transfigurations? Charles stammered incredulously, and highly unprofessionally.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – have you never heard of it?

Witchcraft and Wizardry? the young telepath replied, feeling increasingly faint.

Yes of course! How is it you are using Leglimency and do not know of magic?

There was an honest curiosity in the middle-aged teacher’s voice, the game obviously forgotten.

I… am a mutant? A telepath?

A… mutant, you say? Interesting. This has to do with your genes, right? I’m afraid I didn’t stay up to date with muggle revelations, and missed many scientific discoveries…I’ve heard about genes, though! And mutations! His voice was clearly excited.

It almost made the blank space in Charles’ mind – called shock – retreat.

Genes, yes. Genes. Uh… I- I have to leave!

With that Charles basically fled, leaving the man with the fascinating beard and the strange half-moon glasses behind and distractedly thinking that they would all be rather distraught if they knew that they were glowing green, for all that most of them disliked the colour and thought it evil. Something to do with snakes. It was all quite confusing, and Charles vowed to forget the strange encounter as soon as possible.

Better return to America…

The US would be a terrific place to find new mutants, no matter his admittedly a little ridiculous wish to find someone he could speak proper _British_ with, and-

…

Huh.

That was a new colour!

A deep, pulsating purple…

Four individuals, two men and two women, were in a clearing and it took him a little until he realized that they were not teleporting, but _running_.

They were _that_ fast – all of them.

Amazing!

A tall blond man, he saw after a few moments, had a baseball bat, and the other man – who looked almost like a bear, and was it even comfortable to carry all those muscles around? – threw a ball at him which the bat hit within a split second, and then everyone was running again, dashing and racing and jumping, and the smaller, dark-haired girl had a really strange necklace! Also, it did not seem to upset them that soaking wet was a clear understatement for their condition…

Time to move on.

But really, the necklace _had_ been rather nice!

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it he left the North behind.

Maybe San Francisco was a better destination.

Brushing against a number of red minds Charles once again stopped dead when he came upon one in bright yellow.

_How_? And _why??_

Sighing, he pinned it on his curiosity when he suddenly found himself staring at a beautiful woman standing in the attic of a really _pretty_ house without ever having chosen to go there.

The woman was browsing in some monster of a book – The Book of Shadows, as her surface thoughts betrayed – and muttering silently, and this was a _really nice_ attic!

Oh, of all the distracting things to be distracted by!

Before Charles had the chance to look at some rather strange items which had a feint yellow glow of their own someone whose thoughts were pitch black suddenly turned up, and that was no mutant teleporter either! The newcomer was holding what looked like a crossbow – urks – and aiming at the woman, and before Charles could get into his mind and stop him she had raised her hands and…

… _frozen_ the attacker.

With one flick of her fingers.

_Groovy_.

She then picked up some pointed object, and ran it through the black guy muttering angrily about ‘not bringing Patty Halliwell down so easily!’ and the attacker’s mind crumbled into thousand pieces as his body did the same, and _god_ , that was _disgusting_!

Deciding that visiting the US with Cerebro was not, in any way, more comfortable than the UK Charles was on his way back to London faster than he had thought.

Literally.

On his way towards the city centre he stopped dead once _again_.

This was getting old really fast.

_Another_ flying being – one of a light blue this time. No Witchcraft-Wizardry-being, then… that, at least, was comforting.

Also, she had no broomstick.

What was _not_ comforting was the fact that she was flying holding onto an umbrella.

An _umbrella_.

That was even weirder than the broomsticks!

The umbrella itself, however, was gorgeous.

For an umbrella.

Also, it glowed in its carrier’s light, and Charles could identify what looked like a parrot’s head.

Then the – admittedly rather beautiful – woman looked straight at him, _how was this possible??_ , and Charles _fled_.

It was really enough for one day.

Tearing his mind back from the universe, ignoring the masses of grey, many red, and single different-coloured minds, he forced his own mind back into his own skull, detaching it from Cerebro, and almost tore that helmet-thingy Hank had made from his head.

“We are downgrading Cerebro,” he declared as he rushed from the room, leaving behind a rather startled Hank and a mildly amused Erik. “It’s too powerful. I can’t concentrate. And could you add something that makes the little details _less bloody distracting_?”

It was time for a glass or two, he decided, and a nice game of chess.

Erik surely would come to him – and give him the distraction he really needed now.

No blue, yellow, purple, green or sickeningly colourful minds for the rest of the day – or ever again, if it was up to him.

He knew that he was strange, but those people out there?

Frigging took the biscuit!


End file.
